To Mervas
“She stares vacantly before her. Her frizzy hair looks like foam around her narrow, tired face.
On the floor is a mess of books, knickknacks, potted plants, pillows, clothes, and toys. The window curtains are torn into shreds.
The only sound in the apartment is that of children crying. The twin boys, who haven’t yet learned how to stay away and keep silent, have been spanked with the rug beater. Next to Mom on the couch is my older sister. She puts her arm around Mom’s stiff shoulders, and cries... softly. I’m sitting on the floor with my little sister on my lap. I am not crying.
It is evening. Dad has been visiting the “Exception,” as he calls the place.
“Have you finally learned what a strayed wife’s home looks like?” his thin lips ask, still trembling with rage, before he leaves us.
I go out to the kitchen. He has opened all the cupboards and swept all the glass and china from the shelves. First, I gather up anything that’s not broken or just slightly chipped and put it on the table.MoreLess
On the floor is a mess of books, knickknacks, potted plants, pillows, clothes, and toys. The window curtains are torn into shreds.
The only sound in the apartment is that of children crying. The twin boys, who haven’t yet learned how to stay away and keep silent, have been spanked with the rug beater. Next to Mom on the couch is my older sister. She puts her arm around Mom’s stiff shoulders, and cries... softly. I’m sitting on the floor with my little sister on my lap. I am not crying.
It is evening. Dad has been visiting the “Exception,” as he calls the place.
“Have you finally learned what a strayed wife’s home looks like?” his thin lips ask, still trembling with rage, before he leaves us.
I go out to the kitchen. He has opened all the cupboards and swept all the glass and china from the shelves. First, I gather up anything that’s not broken or just slightly chipped and put it on the table.MoreLess
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